


Resident Evil 7 21- Hoffman Wins

by Snapped_Sky



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapped_Sky/pseuds/Snapped_Sky
Summary: So ages and ages and ages ago, I was playing the RE 7 21 dlc with my brother and we were talking about what would happen if Hoffman won. And I was like "I gotta write that." And ages and ages and ages later, I finally finished it. It's pretty simple, but it's just fun writing Lucas.





	Resident Evil 7 21- Hoffman Wins

            Hoffman stares at his opponent’s body from across the table. He’s now down five fingers. Clancy was his name- is. He’s still breathing. Hoffman’s not sure what he looks like though, because of the sack over his head.

            A small part of Hoffman feels bad for Clancy. But a bigger part is glad he’s not in that position.

            He looks up at the five static-y television screens sitting behind Clancy. “Okay, I won. You’ll let me go now, right?”

            In his control room, Lucas Baker giggles maniacally in his chair at the unconscious Clancy on his computer screen. He stops at Hoffman’s question and rolls his eyes.

            “That’s how the game works,” he sighs with obvious disappointment. “I wish we could’ve had a little more fun.”  
            He stares at his computer screens displaying Hoffman and Clancy. Clancy is slumped over the table. He’s still breathing so he’s not dead; probably just in shock and not going to get up anytime soon.

            The game went by way too fast and Hoffman didn’t even lose any fingers! Who would’ve thought he would be such a whiz at Blackjack?

            Lucas gets an idea and a shit-eating grin spreads across his face.

            “Okay, Hoffman, I’ll let you go,” Lucas says, “just sit tight and I’ll-.”  
            He pushes a button and cuts all the power in the game room. Hoffman exclaims with surprise and starts calling out, “hey! What happened? Hello!”

            Lucas ignores him as he hops out of his chair and hurries to the game room. He moves quickly and quietly, like a snake. He stabs a hook into the back of Clancy’s neck and two more into his right arm. They all have strings attached to them that run into the ceiling and come out in the control room.

            Lucas hustles away and falls into his chair. He switches the power back on and Hoffman gasps with surprise.

            “Sorry about that, Hoffman,” Lucas says, “musta been a power surge. But everything’s fine now. So what were we talking about?”

            “You’re supposed to let me go!” Hoffman barks.

            “Right, right,” Lucas nods, “okay, Hoffman. I’ll-.”

            He yanks the strings attached to Clancy, throwing up his head and arm.

            “Well, goddamn,” Lucas comments, “look at Clancy.”

            He deepens his voice and flails Clancy’s arm around. “I’m Clancy and I feel fine. I don’t want to lose. I wanna play another round.”

            “What the fuck!” Hoffman barks.

            “Atta boy, Clancy,” Lucas cheers in his real voice. “You heard him, Hoffman. We gotta play another round.”

            “You motherfucker!” Hoffman screams, “you said you’d let me go!”

            “And I will,” Lucas says, “IF you beat Clancy.”

            “You sick prick!” Hoffman shrieks while Lucas laughs maniacally.

            He shuts off the game room’s power again and quickly sets up round two.

            When the lights turn back on, Hoffman sees a large machine sitting beside the table. It has two arms that hang over the opponents’ trapped hands. Attached to the arms are gauges numbered 1 to 9 with a red skull after the 9. And sticking out of the gauges are prongs that poke the flesh of their hands.

            Hoffman gets a real bad feeling looking at it.

            “Voila!” Lucas chimes, “just a little something special I made for the occasion.”

            “Figured it out yet?” he asks excitedly, “aww, I bet you can guess.”

            A pair of rods on the main part of the machine starts spinning. The gauge moves to 4 and the prongs lift up.

            They jab into Hoffman and Clancy’s hands, sending horrible shocks through their bodies. Hoffman screams in pain and convulses until the machine stops and the gauge drops down to zero.

            Lucas laughs with sick amusement. “This puppy’s a relic from an execution chamber. I got it working again though,” he states proudly.

            “See them gauges there? The current goes up every time you lose,” he explains. Then he puts on ‘Clancy’s’ voice and flails his arm about. “But, Lucas, what’s the bet?”

            “Good question, Clancy,” Lucas says in his regular voice. “Look here.”  
            A dial sitting on top of the gauges switches on revealing 01 in red.

            “If you lose, the gauge will go up however many numbers the dial is showing,” Lucas explains then giggles, “at max power you’ll really ride the lightning.”

            “Stop, this is crazy!” Hoffman cries.

            “I’m gonna introduce something else to really spice things up,” Lucas says, ignoring him. Two smaller, green cards suddenly shoot out from the dealer machines in front of Hoffman and Clancy. Hoffman picks his up. One says ‘Two Up’ and the other says ‘Draw 6’. They both have a different set of rules written in the corners.

            “These are trump cards,” Lucas explains, “you’ll get one each turn and, if you’re lucky enough, when you draw a card. If you’re going down, you can use these to pick yourself back up.”

            “Now, let’s begin.”  
            Lucas flails Clancy’s arm around and says in his Clancy voice, “it’s your turn now.”

            “You’re really enjoying this, huh, you freak!” Hoffman barks. Away from the mic, Lucas is giggling maniacally.

            The dealing machines at the end of the table deal out two cards to both opponents. One is flipped up, the other isn’t. Hoffman has a six and Clancy has a four. Hoffman looks at his face-down card. It’s a 7, so he has thirteen all together.

            “Hit me,” he says. As long as it’s not a 9 or over, he’ll be good.

            He gets a 5. Now he has 18. That’s a good number to stay on, depending on ‘Clancy’s’ next move.

            Clancy’s limp arm flails about as Lucas’ fake voice comes through the speakers. “Gimme another.”

            The machine spits out an 8. So now, as far as Hoffman can tell, ‘Clancy’ has a 12. His face down card can’t be 7 or 8 since they share the same deck. But if it’s a 9, Hoffman will be in trouble. On the other hand, if its anything higher or lower, ‘Clancy’ will lose this round.

            That’s a rick Hoffman is willing to take. Maybe he can make the reward even greater.

            Hoffman draws his ‘Two-up’ card. The rule says that when this card is on the table, the opponent’s bet goes up by two. So now Clancy’s dial is on 3.

            “I’ll stay,” Hoffman grunts.

            “Oh, boy,” Lucas says in his ‘Clancy’s’ voice. “I’m scared now.”

            ‘Clancy’ stays. The televisions behind him light up with the word ‘Showdown’ while Lucas chimes in over the speakers. “The winner is…”  
            The screens change to show Clancy and Hoffman’s hands. Clancy has 17 and Hoffman has 18.

           “Hoffman!” Lucas declares. The machine powers up as the prongs over Clancy’s hand lift up.

            “Oh no!” Lucas cries dramatically in ‘Clancy’s’ voice.  The prongs jab into his flesh. Clancy’s body thrashes violently from the force of the shock. Over the clamor, Hoffman can faintly hear Lucas’ giggling through the speakers.

            The machine finally stops and Clancy’s limp body leans over. He would probably collapse all together if it weren’t for Lucas’ puppet strings holding him up.

            “Let’s move onto the next round,” Lucas chimes.

            The cards disappear back into the machine. There’s a brief pause before two new game cards and one trump card are dealt to both players. The dials on the machine also go up one.

            Clancy’s face-up card is a 6. Hoffman’s is a 4 and his face-down card is an 8, so he has 12. His new trump card is another ‘Two-up’.

            “Gimme another,” ‘Clancy’ says, his limp arm flailing around. He gets a 5. So as far as Hoffman knows, he has 11. If the face-down card is a 10, he’ll be in trouble.

            “Hit me,” Hoffman says. He gets an 11. Hoffman flinches. He has 23; he’s over.

            “I’ll stay,” ‘Clancy’ says. Not matter what he has, it must be lower than 23. Hoffman’s screwed.

            “I’ll stay,” he croaks.

            “The winner is…” Lucas purrs.       

            The screens change, revealing their hands. Hoffman has 23, Clancy has 18.

            “Clancy!” Lucas cheers. “Uh oh, Hoffman. You get the consolation prize.”

            Hoffman starts panicking as the machine powers up. “Wait! Stop!”

            The prongs jab into his hand. He convulses and screams and chokes as the shock travels through his body. It only lasts a couple seconds but it feels like an eternity.

            It finally stops. Hoffman leans over the table, panting and moaning in pain.

            “Isn’t this a blast?” Lucas laughs excitedly while the new hand is dealt out. Hoffman’s new trump card is a ‘Draw 3’; his face-up card is a 7 and face-down card is a 4. Clancy’s face-up card is a 9.

            The next few rounds are just as stressful and gut wrenching as the last few, if not more so. Every time his dial and gauge moves up, Hoffman feels sicker and sicker. Meanwhile, Lucas seems to be having the time of his life. And Clancy is still unresponsive. Not even the multiple electrical shocks jolt anymore life in him.

            Lucas just worsens the situation by pretending to be Clancy. He’s constantly waving his limp arm about and saying things like, “who cares about your family? What about me?” or, “what are you being so selfish, Hoffman? I thought we were friends!”

            Hoffman does his best to ignore him and focus on the game. Thankfully it should be ending soon. Because ‘Clancy’s’ used a couple ‘Two-up’ cards, Hoffman’s sitting at 5 with a bet of 4 while Clancy is on 6 with only a bet of 1. If Hoffman uses one of his ‘Two-up’ cards, then he only has to win this round and the next and it’ll all be over!

            “A bit longer, just a bit longer,” Hoffman mutters as he puts down his ‘Two-up’ card. His hand is 20 and as far as he can tell, ‘Clancy’ only has 17. He’s feeling pretty confident.

            The round ends and Lucas chimes over the speakers. “Alright, show ‘em, fellas.”

            “It’s a…” The screen changes, showing they both have 20. “A draw!”

            “A draw?” Lucas questions theatrically. “Well, I guess you both lose.”

            “What?” Hoffman exclaims.

            The machine powers up and both arms lift up and shock Hoffman and Clancy. Hoffman screams with agony as he convulses. When the shocks finally stop, he slumps over the table, gasping and weeping. He looks at the machine and watches helplessly as the gauge moves to the skull.

            “Hoo hoo, this next jolt with set you off like a frog on a hot plate,” Lucas laughs.

            They’re both sitting on the skull. This is it; the defining round. If Hoffman doesn’t win this, he’s dead. But if he does win, this will all be over.

            Their hands get dealt out. Hoffman has a 2 and 4, the 4 face-down. Clancy’s face-up card is an 8.

            Hoffman feels safe starting with a low hand like 6. No matter what he draws next, he can’t go over.

            “Hit me,” he says. He gets a 9 so now he has 15.

            “Gimme another,” ‘Clancy’ says. He gets a 7 so, as far as Hoffman can tell, he also has 15.

            Hoffman needs a 6 to get 21 and so does Clancy. But for all Hoffman knows, Clancy might already have 21.

            He goes through his trump cards and puts out the ‘Draw 6’. As long as Clancy doesn’t already have the 6, then Hoffman will get 21.

            The 6 shoots out and Hoffman has to do his best to not jump for joy.

            “I’ll stay,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady.

            “I’ll stay,” ‘Clancy’ says.

           “The winner is…” Lucas sings. The screens reveal their hands: Hoffman has 21, Clancy has 20.

            “Hoffman!”  
            Hoffman sighs with obvious relief. He starts to relax when he hears a voice from across the table.

            “Huh? Wh-what’s going on?” Clancy mutters as he slowly blinks into consciousness. He sees the large machine and the prongs lifting over his hand.

            “Wha-what’s happening? Stop! Stop!” Clancy cries as he tries to pull his hand out of the restraints. The prongs jab into his skin and his screams nearly shake the room.

            Hoffman watches, horrified, as blood seeps through Clancy’s clothes and the eyeholes of his sack and smokes rises from his body. He doesn’t want to watch but he can’t look away.

            The torture finally stops and Clancy slumps over without another sound, being help up only by the strings in the back of his neck.

            Hoffman stares at Clancy’s limp body. There’s no sign of any breathing this time. He’s been fried.

            “He’s dead now. He’s fucking dead, okay?” Hoffman snaps, “now let me go.”

            “Okay, Hoffman,” Lucas says, “you won fair and square. Guess I’ll-.”

            Clancy’s head is yanked up and his arm waves around. “Wait!” Lucas shouts in his fake ‘Clancy’ voice. “I can’t quit now. I’ve been through too much. One more round!”

            “Clancy, you tough sonuvabitch,” Lucas comments, “well, Hoffman, you heard him. One more round!”

            “No!” Hoffman barks, “I won! You can’t keep doing this!”

            “You didn’t really think you could win MY game, did you?” Lucas sneers.

            Hoffman falls back in his chair, hope leaving his body like the steam rolling off Clancy. Memories of his wife and daughter fade in his mind. He shrieks in despair, his cries bouncing off the walls and drowned out only by Lucas’ maniacal laughter.

            He’s trapped forever; doomed to a lifetime of being this freak’s twisted plaything.


End file.
